“I’ll say she is!” exclaimed Roger, looking admiringly at a craft of silver gray metal about sixteen feet in length, gracefully shaped, and decked over like an Esquimauan kayak, but with a centrally located turret which projected above and below the hull. This turret was of glass braced with the same silver-gray metal which formed the hull, and within it could be seen a bewildering array of buttons and levers which fronted a revolving upholstered seat. Projecting from the upper half of the turret, pointing fore, aft, and to each side, were four tubes, each of which ended in a glass lens. The lower turret was similarly equipped. The hull itself was provided with four searchlights, set to sweep in all directions. Ted opened a heavily-gasketed door in the side of the upper turret, and said: “Look her over if you want to, while I put on my driving suit.” “You’ve been keeping something from me, Ted,” said Roger reproachfully while he and the professor admired the snug interior of the craft. The young inventor laughed, as he opened a drawer and produced therefrom a costume and helmet greatly resembling those worn by deep sea divers. “Wanted to surprise you,” he said, stepping into the one-piece suit and screwing down the clamps which closed the front. “Besides, you had too much on your mind as it was.” “But what is the purpose of the thing?” asked the professor, still peering into the interior. “You don’t mean to tell me this craft will fly without planes, rudder or propeller.” “I think so,” replied Ted, “although if it does, this will be its maiden flight.” “But how?” persisted the professor. “Atomotor,” said Ted, shortly, attaching his helmet to an affair which slightly resembled a knapsack. “It will fly in the same manner as my projectile flew to the moon, but more slowly, because I don’t dare give it the terrific start imparted to my projectile.” “Hardly,” smiled Roger. “It would be burned to a cinder. How far are you going tonight?” “Don’t know exactly,” replied Ted, “but if luck is with me I hope to land on the moon before the middle of this week.” “What!” gasped Roger. “You expect to go to the moon alone and unarmed?” “Alone,” grinned Ted, “but not unarmed.” He had donned the helmet and opened a glass slide in front for conversational purposes. After adjusting the straps of the thing which resembled a knapsack, he took a belt from the drawer and buckled it about his waist. Attached to the belt were two holsters from which pistol-like handles projected. “Do you expect to defend yourself against super-intelligences as seem to exist on the moon, with a couple of pistols?” asked the professor. “Hardly,” replied Ted. “The things you think are pistols are not pistols at all, but pistol degravitors. They operate on the same principle as the eight degravitors on my craft, but on a smaller scale.” “You mean those eight tubes sticking out of the turret?” asked Roger. “Exactly,” replied Ted. “What deadly substance do they shoot?”